


Sensitive Skin

by swollenseokseok



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/F, FUCK, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, I'm adding them along as I go ig, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, SO MUCH FLUFF, Short Story, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Weird Plot Shit, dj!otabek, hand holding, how do you do plot can someone teach me, how do you tag, i feel like I'm forgetting all the important tags, idk - Freeform, idk it gets rly fuckin philosophical near the end, like literally - Freeform, like rly short it'll probably be only like four or five chapters, otayuri has taken over my l i f e, p r o c r a s t i n a t i n g e v e r y t h i n g, pls help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-10-27 06:39:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10803816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swollenseokseok/pseuds/swollenseokseok
Summary: "I don't know, Yura... Yakov will be pretty pissed when you get back.""You worry too much, Beka. I'm a perfectly capable adult now and he doesn't have to babysit me. Besides, it's not like it's the first time his skaters have ran off to a different country."__The one where Yuri goes to visit Otabek in Almaty for a few weeks in the summer, meets a few of his Kazakh friends, realizes his best friend is in love with him, and somehow that leads to the two running off and getting matching tattoos.





	1. In Which Yuri Finds Out Otabek Actually Has Friends Lmao

**Author's Note:**

> Ahaha hi. Looky here, I'm starting another fic that I'm not gonna take seriously and will probably take several months to finish despite how straightforward the plot is. 
> 
> It takes real skill to procrastinate procrastination.
> 
> But on the bright side, school ends in about two weeks (pray for my grades pls) so I'll have more time to write ^-^
> 
> So... Yeah, enjoy ig >_>

_You should come visit sometime._

Yuri stretched his arms high over his head as he waited for his luggage, satisfied when he heard several faint _pops_ from his stiff joints. God, he hated planes. There was worse things, sure, and sitting on a plane for hours at a time was definitely something the blond was used to, but it didn't make the ordeal any more comfortable.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and pressed the power button. Once the screen lit up he went to Otabek's contact.

 _Where the hell are you?_ He typed out. He almost missed his bag, only catching a glimpse of cheetah print, and lunged to grab it. He almost knocked some guy over in his hurry, but that barely bothered him. He hurried away, toward the windows.

"Fuck," he muttered, hiking it up on shoulder. His phone vibrated in his hand.

_We're almost there, ten minutes maybe. Can you find somewhere to wait?_

Yuri almost groaned. _We?_

_A few friends are coming along. Is that okay?_

Yuri scoffed and shook his head. _Of course it's okay, you idiot_ , he typed out, despite the stab of irritation and dread in his chest.

Yuri stuffed his phone back into his pocket, momentarily ignoring the vibrating that signaled his reply. He flicked the hood of his jacket off his head and gathered up all his hair at the back of his head, trying to smooth out all the little bumps. He grimaced as he tied it back with the hair tie on his wrist, his hands feeling somewhat dirty thanks to his unwashed hair. He'd been so tired last night after Viktor and Katsudon came over to say their farewells (for fuck's sake they acted like they'd never see him again) and packing, he'd clonked out before he remembered needing to shower. Then that morning he'd woken up late, so he not only had no time to shower, but also no time to eat breakfast or even make a cup of fucking coffee. It was well into the afternoon now, meaning he's went almost thirty hours now without a shower, so he was going to be meeting both Otabek and his friends looking like a dumpster fire. Otabek bringing his friends along wasn't a problem, but Yuri was hoping he'd at least be able to wash his hair or something before meeting anyone close to the brunet.

Well, sure, he met a few of his friends on Skype calls, and even held a few conversations with some of them online, and he barely needed an introduction because he's _Yuri fucking Plisetsky_ , but still, first impressions were important, damn it.

He pulled out his phone again and glanced around before snapping a quick photo of the city outside. He opened Instagram and slapped a random filter on it before uploading the photo. 

 _Fucking finally #kazakhstan #_ _justlanded_

He tapped the home button just as Otabek messaged him again.

 _Where are you?_ he said. Yuri glanced up curiously. Were they here now? His eyes scanned the busy terminal, trying to find his brunet friend. Hmm... It didn't seem like--wait, there he was! Thank fuck he grew a couple inches since he last saw Otabek, otherwise he never would've spotted him in the crowd. Not that he was hard to miss; despite the summer heat he was wearing all black, a form-fitting T-shirt that brought attention to basically everything, dark wash jeans, and his usual combat boots. His hair was longer than it was when he'd last seen him, long enough for him to tie it back, but little strands still fell into his eyes. Yuri could swear he felt his heart palpitate at the sight.

"Otabek!" he called, striding toward him. Yes, his legs are now long enough for him to _stride_ places, and it fucking rocks. 

"Yuri?" Otabek's eyebrows furrowed, but his lips curled up into a minuscule smirk nonetheless. He waited until he and Yuri were right in front of each other before noting, "You're taller than me."

"Yup," Yuri grinned proudly, putting his hands on his hips. "That isn't too hard, though."

Otabek scoffed, "You also look like you haven't slept since Monday."

"Oh, fuck off," Yuri kicked his shin lightly, a hand subconsciously going to his hair.

Before he could reply a pretty girl with dark eyes and green highlights in her hair stepped up to Otabek and bumped her hip against his. Yuri stiffened.

"This is him?" she asked, eyeing the blond curiously with a small smile.

"Does it look like him?" Otabek rolled his eyes. "Yuri, this is Freya, one of my friends."

"Nice to finally meet you in person," she said, holding out a hand. _Freya--_ the name was familiar, but Yuri couldn't remember much about her. Yuri relaxed a bit, though not completely, and met it. 

"You too," he said with a half smile/half grimace. "Though I was kind of hoping I wouldn't look homeless when I did." 

Freya laughed. She had a small laugh, like Otabek, but not as--well, as good. "And here I was thinking you looked like a model or some shit. My mistake."

At that, basically all the tension left Yuri's body. He laughed with her for a moment, taking note of the pleased smirk on Otabek's face.

 _"_ _Bekaaa_ _!"_

Otabek's face went from content to extremely exasperated in all but less than a second. A pair of tan, lanky arms wrap around his shoulders from behind, and Yuri made out a sweet looking face framed by curly brown hair.

"You found him?" the boy scrutinized Yuri over Otabek's shoulder, which seemed to be a bit of a struggle for him, as he was on his tippy-toes. " _Ooh_ , he's even cuter in person." The boy giggled, swaying a bit. He fucking _giggled._ Yuri blinked at Otabek, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he and this flirty, giggly boy are friends. Otabek just rolled his eyes and stepped out of the boy's grasp.

"Amir, Yuri," he introduced. "Yuri, this is Amir. Don't get anywhere near him if you want to keep your innocence."

 _Amir._ Yuri blanched, but Amir just laughed, draping an arm across Freya's waist. "Please, Beks, don't be so dramatic. Besides, I'm not interested in blonds." He sniffed.

"Let's get out of here," Otabek said before Yuri could reply with anything more than a choked noise. He reached out to Yuri, and the boy stiffened again for a moment before he realized Otabek was taking his bag. 

"I can carry that," he stated, but it was a bit halfhearted; he didn't want Otabek to carry it, but then again, he was tired as fuck. Kind of weird, since basically all he did was sit in a box all day. Otabek only responded by shrugging the bag onto his shoulder and stepping toward the terminal exit.

Despite the fact that the temperature was fairly cool for summer in Almaty, Yuri felt like he was sweating buckets in his black hoodie, dark jeans, and black boots--all meant for Russian weather. He inwardly groaned, making a mental note to get to a shower as fast as possible.

"So Yuri," Freya started. "How long are you staying in Almaty?"

"Until July, probably," he said. Yuri wasn't necessarily sure what the exact date was, but he knew he had roughly two weeks before Yakov started really throwing a fit over his absence. 

"You're gonna be training with Beka here until you go back?" Amir asked.

"Yeah," Yuri's mouth twisted distastefully as he recalled how strict Otabek made his coach sound. "But I'd much rather just put off training until I get back to Russia."

"Yuri," the blond could practically hear Otabek's frown.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Yuri waved his hand in his direction, trying his best not to pout in the presence of Otabek's friends. Freya frowned at the interaction but didn't say anything. 

Okay, maybe Yakov didn't exactly _agree_ to let Yuri go to Kazakhstan for a few weeks. It was more like, Yakov found out he was going only two days before he left and realized he couldn't do anything about it because Yuri had already bought tickets and packed. Otabek, being the dumb fucking goody-goody he is, tried to get Yuri to cancel, because, _Yura_ _, he already doesn't like me, don't make it any worse._ But Yuri wasn't going to budge; _we already have this planned, god damn it,_ _Yakov_ _can deal._

 _I don't know,_ _Yura_ _..._ _Yakov_ _will be pretty pissed when you get back._

 _You worry too much,_ _Beka_ _. I'm a perfectly capable adult now and he doesn't have to babysit me. Besides,_ he added ruefully, _it's not like it's the first time his skaters have ran off to a different country._

It took a lot of convincing, but eventually Yakov decided he could go as long as he practiced his routines every day, stayed away from strangers, didn't do anything illegal, blah blah blah.

Well, no promises on that last one. He was called the Russian punk for a reason.

"Where did you guys park?" Yuri asked. "You guys did bring a car, right? Oh god, don't tell me you walked." 

Otabek snickered. "We drove here."

"We let Serik park, but, eh...," Amir trailed off, looking around with a frown. 

"Serik's here too?" the blond asked, brightening a bit. Yuri knew Serik fairly well, for someone he'd never met in real life--much better than these two; he also skated, but not professionally. Sometimes he'd tag along with Otabek to his skating practices and Yuri would get random videos of either Otabek skating, Serik skating, or just the two doing random shit.

"He was," Freya frowned. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

Yuri sighed inwardly, trying to ignore the dull throbbing in his head and the way little wisps of hair stuck to the nape of his neck. _It's too fucking hot._ He unzipped his jacket and yanked it off his body, silently relishing in the brief relief of the suffocating heat. He heard a quiet wolf whistle from behind him and rolled his eyes.

"Nice tank," Amir smirked at the loose black garb Yuri sported. The tank top went past his waist to the top of his thighs, with a too-wide collar that basically showed his entire chest. The back was loose and open, too, and Yuri was fairly certain it was a girl's shirt. He wouldn't know, honestly, he stole it from Viktor a while back when the went to Peongchang for a skating competition and Yuri didn't have anything to sleep in. 

"Shut the fuck up," Yuri muttered before he could stop himself, tying his jacket around his waist. _God damn it._ Well, there goes a good first impression. 

Thankfully, Amir just laughed. "I'm being serious, you look really good in it." Suddenly he sighed. "Skaters look good in everything."

Otabek and Yuri snorted at the same time.

"Where the hell did you hear that from?" Yuri asked crossing his arms.

"Are you serious?" Amir's eyes had a gleam in them that made Yuri stiffen. "Two words, hon: Viktor Nikiforov. That man could wear a plastic bag and work it like it's Gucci. Korea's top skater wore a feather duster for one of his performances and still looked fucking fabulous. Serik in sweatpants? Downright sinful. And have you seen Beka's routines? Even in the most ridiculous outfits he still looks like a god damn prince!"

Despite himself, Yuri laughed at the complete absurdity of his outburst. 

"Amir," Otabek frowned. Yuri snorted when he noticed the pink hue on his face. _Cute._

"Aw, Beks, there's no reason for you to be embarrassed," Amir said, leaning his head on Otabek's shoulder. He sent Yuri a devilish smirk. "I'm sure Yuri just _loves_ the idea."

Yuri spluttered. _"What?"_

"Speaking of Serik," Otabek brushed--well, pushed Amir off his arm. "Where did he go?"

Freya groaned, stuffing her phone back in her pocket. "The fucking idiot went to get food."

Otabek sighed. "Of course he did."

"From where?" Amir asked. 

"That Thai place a block from here."

"Oh," Amir brightened. "Do you think he'll get us some?"

"Probably not."

"Oh."

Otabek heaved a deep sigh, then took Yuri's elbow. "All right. Come on, guys."

"Where are we going?" Yuri asked.

"To get our car," Otabek said, like it was obvious. Yuri just stared.

"Yes, Beka!" Amir laughed.

"He has the keys, though." Freya pointed out.

"Venera keeps a spare pair in the console, doesn't she?" Otabek asked.

 _Venera_ _._ Yuri didn't know that name at all.

As they walked, Yuri found himself paying a bit too much attention to the hand on his elbow; he tried to no avail to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. He wasn't an idiot, nor was he blind; he knew his best friend was hot. Hotter than pretty much anyone Yuri had seen before. To think in the past six months Yuri hadn't seen him in person in, he could've gotten hotter. Fuck him. 

Yuri's mouth twisted at that. _I wish._

"You okay?" Otabek asked quietly, frowning at Yuri. 

"M'fine," Yuri mumbled, trying his best to not blush again. Why did he have to be so close?

"Are you sure?" Amir asked, bumping his ribs with his elbow. "You look a little red, there, heh. Embarrassed? Nervous? Blushing?"

"How about dying?" Yuri quipped, frowning at the brunet. "How the hell do you people live here? It's got to be, like, thirty degrees!"

"Not everyone is born with ice in their veins, Yura." Again, with that dumbass half-smile.

"Fuck you," Yuri sneered. "You're an ice skater, though, you're supposed to sympathize with me."

Otabek just shook his head. 

"There it is," Freya said, pointing to a sleek dark blue car. It was parked rather sloppily in front of a worn yet well-kept building. 

"He really is a fucking idiot, he left the doors unlocked," Freya shook her head as she yanked the back door open.

Otabek smirked. He opened the driver's door, and Amir opened the passenger side.

"After you, ma'am," he gestured grandly with his arm for Yuri to get in.

Yuri raised an eyebrow, but got in nonetheless. "Thanks... I guess."

Otabek got the keys out of the console and started the engine, the radio blasting on along with it. Otabek's face twisted in distaste and he turned the volume down significantly. When he began backing out of the parking lot Yuri's eyes widened in realization.

"Woah, we're just gonna leave him here?" Yuri asked.

"Yup," Amir smiled sweetly. He held out his phone between the two front seats, far away enough to get everyone in the frame. "Wait wait wait don't drive yet--Freya, move in closer!"

Yuri smirked at the camera as they gathered in. He held out his middle finger at the phone, while Freya and Amir both grinned and held up peace signs, and Beka gave a simple thumbs up, expressionless.

"Here, tag yourself, Yuri," Amir handed the device to the blond, the keyboard already up. After typing in his handle he handed out back, making a mental note to follow Amir later.

_New babe #yuriplisetsky #squadgoals sorry that @serikim couldnt be with us_

"Okay, let's go," Amir grinned. "Make sure he sees us, too."

"Uhhh," Yuri tittered nervously. "He does have a way to get home, right?"

Freya rolled her eyes, holding her middle finger up to the window as they drove by. Yuri could make out a smiling face waving at them from inside the building. "He'll be fine. It's not the first time his dumbass self has gotten himself stranded. Besides, he grew up here and basically everyone knows him."

"Good points." Yuri allowed, relaxing back into his seat. Damn, this thing was comfortable. Well, a hell of a lot more comfortable than an airplane seat.

The four rode in comfortable silence, with only the radio for background noise, for almost twenty minutes before Amir broke it.

"Holy shit," Amir gasped, his eyes wide. He held his phone out to Freya.

"Oh, hell no," she groaned. "Serik, you fucking cunt."

"What is it?" Otabek asked.

Amir just held out the phone. On the screen was a picture of a blue credit card lying on a wooden table, with the caption: _jokes on you, you left a Thai food lover in a Thai restaurant and I have Veneras card. Have fun explaining this one to your girl Freya <3_


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> word vomit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAHHHHHH ITS BEEN FOREVER SORRY LMAO BTS HAS TAKEN OVER MY LIFE
> 
> IF YOURE INTO IT PLS RECOMMEND YOONSEOK/NAMJIN/JIKOOK/VKOOK FICS ILL LOVE YOU FOREVER
> 
> MAINLY YOONSEOK THO
> 
> HOPE YOU LIKE THIS CHAPTER ILL UPDATE AGAIN IN AUGUST LMAO

Yuri sighed in contentment as he flopped onto Otabek's bed, his face pressed into his pillows. He just finished taking a (much needed) shower and he was more than ready to fall asleep. His entire body basically melted into the duvet. It smelled like Otabek, and Yuri was having trouble not just burying his nose into the pillow.

"You're getting my sheets wet," Otabek said. He just said it, like it was an observation and not a complaint.

"You got a hair dryer?" Yuri asked snarkily, snuggling more into the ridiculously soft blankets. Seriously, fuck this guy, where the hell did he get such soft blankets? He heard Otabek sigh and retreat into the hallway, then when he came back he felt something bulky and hard fall onto his back.

"Ow!" he leaned up on his arms, looking behind him at the item on his back. He shot Otabek a glower. "You actually have a hair dryer? Why the fuck?"

"It's my sister's," Otabek shrugged. 

"Why do you have her hair dryer?" Yuri knew of his sister-- _Sofie_ , if he remembered correctly from a few of their Skype calls. She was around his age, maybe a year younger, though Yuri had never seen the girl.

"She likes to stay here during weekends," Otabek said. "I let her house sit while I'm away at competitions, too."

"Oh." For a moment, Yuri vaguely wondered if he was intruding upon that. He also wondered when--if--he'd meet her and Otabek's parents. From what little he could gather from Otabek's social media, he and his sister were close (that was obvious now, knowing she spent every fucking weekend here), but he'd yet to see a lot about his parents. 

"So," Otabek motioned to the hair dryer, still on Yuri's back. Yuri snorted.

"Fuck you." Yuri stood and grabbed the hair dryer. He made his way to the bathroom and plugged the device in and began drying his hair. It was long now, almost down to his elbows in some places, and it had quite a healthy shine. Much to his dismay, a lot of people compared it to Viktor's back when he had long hair, so he opted to keep it as messy and unkempt as he did when he was fifteen, unlike the platinum-haired man who always kept his hair impeccably neat. It was a lot harder to maintain during the summer, though, since it'd stick to the back of his neck and made his head hot and uncomfortable. And the new, warmer area definitely wasn't helping. Seriously, he'd only spent one day in Kazakhstan he was already ready to chop the shit off.

Once he deemed his hair dry (enough), he unplugged the hair dryer and returned to Otabek's room, where the dark-haired boy was sprawled out unceremoniously among the sheets on his back, eyes trained on a book held open in his hands.

"Where did you want me to set this?" Yuri asked, holding up the hair dryer. Otabek looked up.

"You could've just left it in the bathroom," he said. Yuri just huffed in response and Otabek rolled his eyes. "Set it on the dresser, then."

Yuri did so, then flopped back onto the bed, next to Otabek, his hair fanning out around his head. He closed his eyes, enjoying the bit of silence between the two. That was one reason he preferred Otabek's company over many others'; he didn't feel the need to fill the silence. It was relaxing--more than relaxing. It was like a lullaby, almost, if there were lullabies for angry blond Russian almost-adults. 

"You hungry?" Otabek asked eventually, closing his book. Yuri felt fingertips brush over his forehead, brushing the hair out of his face. Yuri leaned into the touch, silently enjoying the way his face warmed where Otabek touched it. He shrugged in response, eyes still shut. 

"Not really."

"When was the last time you ate?" Otabek asked, his fingers combing through the tangles in the blond locks. Yuri's eyelids were getting heavier by the second, and it was taking more effort than he'd admit to keep from literally purring.

"Mm... On the plane, around noon, I think," God, if Otabek kept doing that he was going to pass out.

"That was, like, eight hours ago," Yuri could hear the frown in his voice. "You should eat something."

Yuri groaned when he felt Otabek shift over him, toward the edge of the bed. He reached up and grabbed onto his shirt. " _Noo._ I just wanna sleep, keep petting me."

Otabek chuckled. "You're such a cat."

Yuri rolled over and opened his eyes. "Exactly. Cats need sleep and pets." To add effect, Yuri nudged Otabek's hand with his cheek. Otabek scoffed.

"Cats also need lots of food," Otabek said, rubbing Yuri's scalp with his knuckles and effectively retangling the locks. He stood. "Come on, you can sleep afterward."

"Fine," Yuri huffed, sitting up. He ran a hand through his hair, scowling as his fingers caught onto several knots.

"I don't suppose your sister has a brush somewhere?" he asked.

"You can check, across the hall," Otabek said on his way out. He stopped at the door frame and looked back at Yuri thoughtfully. "I can braid your hair later, if you want."

"Oh, okay," Yuri said, grateful that his hair was hiding the red blooming on his face from Otabek's view. It was a normal occurrence, Otabek braiding Yuri's hair, but Yuri never quite got over all the mushy emotions that took over his thoughts when Otabek asked the question. Always so straightforward, sometimes Yuri wasn't sure how to respond. 

Yuri stood and made his way to the other bedroom to find it in stark contrast to the rest of the flat. Whereas Otabek's room--along with the main room, the bathroom, and probably the kitchen too--was mostly simple, sparse, almost Spartan in style, this room was practically cluttered with notebooks and bags and random articles of clothing. The bed was messily made, with an abundance of pillows spilling onto the floor. There was a vanity table shoved against one of the walls, and there wasn't a square inch of the table that wasn't either covered by plastic makeup containers or notebooks. So many notebooks; was Sofie a writer? Yuri was half tempted to pick one up and look inside, but instead focused on finding a brush. It wasn't hard; she had three different ones laying precariously on the edge of the vanity, in a row. Yuri frowned and picked one up, then made his way back to find Otabek.

The brunet was in the kitchen, staring into the fridge and frowning. "I guess we could order something?"

"We could just go to sleep," Yuri suggested, his eyes roaming from Otabek to the interior. He was right, the kitchen was as bland as the rest of the house.

Otabek didn't respond to that with words, opting instead to look up from the fridge and fix an unamused stare on Yuri. It didn't take long for him to get uncomfortable. Just before Yuri opened his mouth to snap at Otabek, a loud pounding on the door caught both their attention. Otabek sighed and made his way to the living room, Yuri in tow. The brunet opened the door, and Yuri couldn't help but smirk when he looked over Otabek's shoulder without leaning up on his toes.

"Serik?" Otabek asked. "What are you--what the hell are you holding?"

"Hey, bae," Serik grinned at the two, flashing a set of rather bright white teeth. Yuri raised an eyebrow at the items in his hands. In one hand that lay at his side, he held the handles of a ridiculous amount of paper bags that Yuri couldn't even count, and on the other he balanced eight Styrofoam boxes between his hand and his chin. He raised the hand at his side a bit and simply said:

"It's Thai food."

"What did you do?" Otabek looked incredibly exasperated.

"Nothing too bad," Serik stared at him, feigning wide-eyed innocence. "But I need your help."

"You're not keeping any in here," Otabek deadpanned.

"Just get my key out of my pocket and open my door," Serik rolled his eyes. 

"You know this is technically illegal, right?" Otabek said, fishing his keys out of his pockets. Yuri's eyes followed the movement closer than he knew they should.

"Yeah, well," Serik readjusted the boxes in his hand. "It's also illegal to take someone's vehicle and leave them stranded at a restaurant with no way to get home. Probably," he frowned, looking thoughtful.

"It wasn't your vehicle, and you live, like, a mile from that restaurant," Otabek unlocked the door and swung it open with a bit more force than necessary. "And if we're being technical, you're the one who took the car. I was just getting Yuri home."

"What?" Serik stared at Otabek, incredulous. " _You_ took the car back? I thought it was Freya! I bought three hundred dollars worth of Thai food on her car for nothing?!"

"That's three hundred worth?" Yuri frowned at the amount in his arms. Sure, it was a lot, but it didn't seem like three hundred dollars worth.

Serik laughed. "Oh, no. I gave a lot of it away to people I met on the street. This is, like... Maybe a little less than half?" 

"Great," Otabek said. "You're paying Venera back."

Serik narrowed his eyes, setting the bags onto the coffee table, then the boxes. "No way. It's already done, backing out now isn't possible. Plus, we both know Freya's gonna try to kill me so I'm gonna make it worth it."

"If you knew that, why the hell did you spend her money on Thai food?" Otabek raised an eyebrow.

"Because pissing her off is fun," Serik grinned, and for one painful moment Yuri was reminded of Viktor, stupid heart smile and all. He shuddered a bit.

"Okay," Otabek said simply, then glanced at Yuri. He took the blond's elbow and added, "We're gonna go now."

"Hey, wait," Serik said, stepping up to the blond boy. He regarded Yuri carefully with a sweet smile before asking, "So, Yuri, do you like Thai food?"

"No," Otabek said before Yuri could answer. 

"Oh, come on," Serik groaned. "I'm gonna be eating this shit for probably the next two weeks. You could at least help me out."

"Whose fault is that?" Otabek pointed out. Serik simply continued to pout, looking so genuinely hurt that Yuri had to laugh. He really was like Viktor. 

"Beka," Yuri rolled his eyes, snorting. "Come on, let's just take something. It'll be easier than ordering something."

"I thought you wanted to go to sleep," Otabek sighed.

"Well, you know," Yuri smirked wryly. "Cats need lots of food."

Otabek simply huffed looked away, eyebrows furrowed and face flushed.

They ate Thai that night.

 

\--

 

Venera was not amused.

Apparently the next day Freya had completely bitched Serik out--not in front of Yuri, unfortunately. Serik came to the rink with a nice, dark bruise on his cheekbone and a smirk on his lips.

"Still think you didn't go just a bit overboard?" Otabek asked at practice a few days later, his eyebrows raised.

"Nope," Serik said airily, tugging on his laces to get them tight enough. Skate laces were tricky to get just right so they weren't too tight and hurt your feet, but not loose enough to make balancing difficult. Serik seemed to be having troubles with his, because that was the fourth time he had re-tightened them.

"I told her, that whole fucking shrimp fiasco last month was the last time I was putting up with her shit," Serik continued. "It took me two whole days to get all the sauce out of my hair. And my favorite outfit of all time was ruined that night. Besides, Venera can't hold a grudge against her forever."

"She's held a grudge against _you_ since forever," Otabek pointed out. Serik laughed.

"Okay, that's only because Freya has held a grudge against me since forever," Serik said, finally tying his skates. "She's only talked to me, like, twice."

"So you decide that buying three hundred dollars worth of fried rice with her money is the best way to get her to like you?" Otabek asked.

Serik sighed, putting his hands on his hips. "You got me there."

"Keep in mind, if they break up, it's most likely your fault."

Yuri watched the exchange from the other side of the rink's railing with a strange sort of curiosity. Otabek seemed incredibly exasperated with Serik, but he still had a smile ghosting about his features. Otabek was weird like that; he didn't outright smile like a normal person; no, he had to be all mysterious and shit and smile with everything but his mouth, which would only lift into a small Mona Lisa smirk every now and then. You could tell when he was smiling through his eyes, but if you weren't looking it'd be hard to miss.

Serik on the other hand--wow. Amir wasn't joking when he said Serik was a sight to see in sweatpants. Along with one of the nicest asses Yuri had ever seen, he had an undercut, like Otabek's, but much longer on top and seemed to be perpetually wrapped into a knot at the back of his head, little strands of dark brown fading to almost white escaping here and there and leaving Yuri wondering if the highlights were natural or not. He had a sort of sweet-looking face, with shining angular eyes and his lips curved into am ever-present smile. Yuri found that out-of-focus videos and the rare Instagram photo really didn't do him justice.

"So, Yuri," Serik presently addressed the blond, standing.

"Yeah?" Yuri started a bit.

"How do you like Almaty so far?" He asked, stepping out onto the ice and beginning a lazy lap around the rink. "Has Beks showed you around?"

"It's cool, but we haven't really had a chance to get out yet," Yuri said simply, pushing off the railing to follow suit. "Last night I was dead on my feet, so we didn't do a lot."

"Is he gonna take you out with us this Friday?" he asked excitedly.

"Serik!" Otabek groaned, shooting the taller man an annoyed look.

"What's Friday?" Yuri asked, starting his own lap around the rink.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Otabek said, his face contorting into something akin to a pout. Yuri almost snorted. _Cute._

"What is it?" Yuri asked, looking to Otabek. When Otabek ignored him he huffed and turned to Serik.

"What is it, Serik?" the blond demanded, putting his hands on his hips.

Serik flashed a mischievous grin. "We're goin' clubbing."

Yuri lit up with excitement. "A club? Really? Otabek--"

"We aren't going clubbing," Otabek rolled his eyes. "Not really. I have a gig at a little place on Friday and since everyone wanted to come I figured you would too."

"That's fuckin' awesome!" Yuri grinned, thinking back to the last time he saw Beka DJ, which was literally forever ago, save a few poorly shot videos he stumbled across on the internet every now and then. It was over two years ago, actually, way back in Barcelona. He cut it short, though, to help Yuri with his exhibition skate. This time Yuri would actually be able to see the Kazakh play a full set. "You were so cool the last time, I can't wait!"

"Yeah, yeah," Otabek shrugged the compliment off, though Yuri could see a patch of red blossom on his neck and travel to his ears and face. He smiled.

"Yuri," Serik grinned, holding up his phone. "Let me get a picture!"

"Sure thing," Yuri glided over to where Serik had stopped, grabbing Otabek's arm as he passed him. 

"Woah," Otabek fumbled on the ice for a moment, making Yuri laugh. He quickly righted himself, though, and let Yuri lead him over to the side of the rink. Yuri slung an arm around both the boys' shoulders and smirked at the camera. Serik flashed a huge grin and Otabek stayed as blank-faced as usual, giving the camera a simple thumbs-up, just like yesterday. The thought made Yuri's smile widen.

_그들이 데이트하기 전에 얼마나 오래 생각하니? ;)  
_

Yuri frowned at the caption. "What is that?" 

"Uh?" Serik looked up, wiping the grin off his face. "Oh, it's korean."

"Well, duh," Yuri rolled his eyes. It was a little surprising, to be honest; Serik didn't look too Korean, but then again Yuri hasn't really seen many Koreans. "But what does it say?"

"Don't worry about it." His little smirk was back, and Yuri narrowed his eyes.

"Tell me what it says, dude."

"Jeez, I thought you guys were gonna practice skating," Serik shook his head and skated away, still smiling. "Instead you're over here wasting time interrogating me."

"He has a point, c'mon," Otabek skated back to the middle of the rink, leaving a pouting Yuri behind.

 

\--

 

Fresh out of the shower that night, Yuri saw that Viktor had messaged him. Yuri wrinkled his nose as he finished drying his hair; the old man said he wanted to keep tabs on Yuri, so he'd message him every couple days. That made Yuri feel like kicking him in the face; he didn't need someone to babysit him, especially not the baby that is Viktor Nikiforov.

_Old man: Yuraaaa~ how's kazakstan so far??_

_Yurio: don't call me that_

_and it's fine ig i haven't done a lot_

_Old man: is Otabek okay? Is he treating you well??_

Yuri raised an eyebrow. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

_Yurio: he's fine_

_Old man: That's good ( ´ ▽ ` ) have you made any plans to go out yet?? : )_

_Yurio: why the hell are you talking like that? you make it sound like were dating or smth  
_

_Old man: ........._

_Yurio: OMFG NO_

_Old man: honey don't deny it_

_it's perfectly okay to have feelings for someone at your age_

_you too are cute together :D_

_Yurio: WHAT THE HELL_

_Old man: I'm sure he feels the same! He's practically glued to your hip!_

_Yurio: VIKTOR STOP_

_Old man: If he doesnt like you just lemme know and i can come out there and slash his motorcycle tires for you ( ᐛ )_

Yuri let out a growl and locked his phone before throwing it onto the couch, then he threw himself onto the couch and curled up into a ball. Otabek stepped into the living room, eyeing Yuri cautiously.

"What's up?"

"Viktor's being stupid." Yuri murmured into his knees, avoiding Otabek's eyes.

"Oh," Otabek nodded. "I'm gonna order something, you okay with takeout?"

"Whatever," Yuri mumbled, watching Otabek's back as he turned to go back to his room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr if ya want: https://opium-and-the-royal-children.tumblr.com/
> 
> I don't do a lot but when i get on it's lit (￣ω￣)
> 
> ((By lit I mean i might post one thing, reblog weird shitposts and then lurk for an hour))
> 
> leave a kudos, leave a comment, recommend yoonseok fics, whatever >_>

**Author's Note:**

> Yaaayyy first chapter is dooonnnneeeee *blows kazoo*
> 
> Also um I'm not sure if anyone actually reads author's notes but um this is kinda a weird question but can someone pls teach me how the hecK to use tumblr?? Like I made one like three years ago and never got into it and then I made a new one like a week ago (under the same user as on here *finger guns*) and it's weird to me?? Like idfk what I'm doing and I just made it bc Otayuri xD like, tf is a queue?? How do you tag shit?? I'm somehow even worse with tagging on tumblr than I am with tagging fics??
> 
> Anyway, advice (on both tumblr and life in general) would be gREaT


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